Its impetus

Its impetus
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— by @d-pend
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Its impetus
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The soul impels me on, and on, and on:
impatient with the limits of the flesh
that dulls her shimmer of an endless dawn
o'erspreading far horizon to all-mesh
with cosmic vistas, vast and desolate
wonders not-yet-seen by any eye.

So here I am — here I humbly sit,
sit and work mechanics of the Self,
work and nothing do and nothing say:
save that is said within by spirit mine.

Divine, yea — so not mine, and so not yours;
nor owns a soul a fraction of the whole
but for a time lives, moves and has its own
circumference to learn and to explore.

May this small circle of the light expand;
May this one gesture ripple out to ev'ry hand;
May this one joy — capture every mind;
May those who truly seek, forever find
the treasure that impels the spirit on —
the chest of gold beneath an endless dawn.


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words and images by @d-pend
created for HIVE on Sept. 26, 2020.


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